“The ring is but a symbol of God’s endless love and fidelity,” the minister intoned. “Journey together from this moment forward, as man and wife, in harmony with His commandments, and He will bless you, guide you, and sustain you through the trials of this life until you are reunited with Him in glory in the next. Amen.”
“Amen,” Ellie whispered, clinging to those promises instead of thoughts of her cousin’s reaction when he discovered she had gotten married without his permission or his blessing.
Jackson’s voice cracked when he voiced his “amen,” but he held on to her hand and did not let go.
Mrs. Shore dabbed at her eyes with her lace-trimmed handkerchief. “Kiss your bride, Mr. Jackson,” she prompted as Mr. Clemmons made a quick retreat back to the dinner table.
Jackson finally let go of Ellie’s hand and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered so only she could hear him.
She heard more than his gratitude. She heard relief, a sore replacement for the expression of love she dreamed she might hear one day from the man she had just married.
“What about you, boys? Daniel? Ethan? Wouldn’t you like to kiss your new mother, too?” Mrs. Shore prompted.
“Ethan’s hungry, and we wanna go home,” Daniel insisted, stopping short of refusing the woman’s request while keeping a tight hold on his younger brother’s hand.
Jackson let go of Ellie’s hand to place his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “We really should go.”
“We have another stop to make, and there’s a basket of food in the wagon. We were planning to eat on the way back to the island.” Ellie tried to keep her voice from reflecting her disappointment, even though she understood the boys’ reluctance to show her affection of any kind.
Mrs. Shore smiled gently. “They’ll come around. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to give them a little snack. I do believe Reverend Shore would like to finish his dinner.” She looked down at the boys. “Why don’t you two come with me? While I warm up the rest of the reverend’s dinner, I have a bit of sugar to sprinkle on a good hunk of buttered bread for you,” she offered and turned to her husband. “While I take the boys with me, you can sign the marriage certificate for the newlyweds. Mr. Clemmons and I signed it earlier, as always,” she said, escorting both boys to the kitchen with no complaint from either one of them.
Without comment, the minister disappeared into his study.
Left alone with her husband for the first time, Ellie self-consciously twisted the ring on her finger. “What made you choose this ring? Not that it matters. They were all very lovely.”
He shrugged. “It was the only one carved from apple wood. I thought that might do best, at least until I can get a more proper ring for you.”
She closed her hand tight. “I don’t need another ring. I like this one,” she replied.
And she truly meant it.
With the shadow of the parsonage of the First United Church of Harrisburg behind her, Ellie sat on the far side of the front seat of the buckboard, anxious about making this one last stop before heading back to the island. Jackson sat in the driver’s seat, with Daniel and Ethan sitting safely between them, preoccupied with the sweet treat Mrs. Shore had given them.
The day had warmed up considerably, and bright sunshine warmed the top of her head and bounced off the glass windows on the covered bridge that spanned the river. Below, she could see the rush of the Susquehanna River and marveled at the number of shoppers hustling along the street that hugged the river’s path.
Her heart was racing as she anticipated returning to her cousin’s home to tell him the news of her marriage—news that would elicit a host of reactions, not the least of which was bound to be unadulterated shock.
Wagon traffic, as well as horse traffic, was heavy, which was not unusual for midday, and she was relieved when Jackson finally turned down Mulberry Lane and parked the wagon around the corner from the Emporium and the shops her cousin and his wife operated.
After Jackson helped her down from her seat, the two boys quickly followed. Using a handkerchief she kept stored in her cape pocket, she wiped the sugary crumbs from their faces and hands. “There. That’s better,” she said, smiling.
Daniel shrugged and looked up at his father. “Pappy, do we hafta go inside? Ethan’s still hungry and wants to go home.”
Jackson hefted Ethan into his arms. “We won’t be long.”
“Just long enough for me to get my things and tell my cousin and his wife that I’ll be living on the island with all of you,” Ellie offered and held out her hand to her oldest stepson.
Instead, Daniel took his father’s hand, and Jackson offered her a look that suggested it might be a good while before she earned the boy’s trust.
Determined to wait this child out with sheer patience and love, Ellie started up the lane. By the time they turned at the corner and she saw the unique double-door entrance to the Emporium just a few yards ahead, her heart was pounding. Instinctively, she braced to a halt.
“Nervous?” her husband asked gently.
She moistened her lips, brushed at her skirts, and nodded. “I’m not quite sure how Mark or Olivia will take to our getting married,” she admitted, giving voice to her own fears for the first time.
“It’s my place to tell them,” he argued.
“They’re my relatives. I should tell them,” Ellie countered. Because it would be inappropriate for her to enter her cousin’s tailor shop, which Mark had been quick to point out to her when she made that mistake upon her arrival, she led her new family into the display room in the front of Olivia’s shop, where half a dozen winter capes had been artfully arranged to tempt the most discriminating shopper. On the far wall, a sideboard held books of pictures of the latest styles, along with samples of fabric, and several upholstered chairs offered ladies the opportunity to relax in comfort while they made their selections.
Before the bell over the door had stopped tinkling, Olivia emerged from behind a curtain that separated a pair of small fitting rooms from the main shop. At forty-seven, she was sixteen years older than Ellie, a good six inches shorter, and quite round at the hips, but she was still blessed with classic features and lustrous blond hair that made Ellie feel exceedingly plain just being in the same room with her.
“You’re back today. Already?” Olivia noted with disappointment as she stepped aside to let a customer pass by her.
Ellie did not know the woman who followed on Olivia’s heels, but the very last thing she wanted to do in front of anyone else was to share the news of her marriage to Jackson Smith with Olivia, especially when the woman was clearly irritated by her arrival.
Olivia smiled at her customer and nodded toward Jackson. “You know Mr. Smith, of course, but this is my husband’s cousin, Elvira Kilmer, whom I was telling you about,” she said without introducing Ellie, in turn, to the well-to-do woman, who was dressed in a rose-colored brushed linen gown that was far more elegant than Ellie would ever need to wear.
The woman smiled graciously at Ellie. “It’s wonderful to hear you’ve come to Harrisburg to live, especially since your cousin here has told me how kind you’ve been to volunteer to help Jackson with housekeeping and such. Spinsterhood does have its advantages now and again, I suppose,” she murmured before turning all of her attention to the man at Ellie’s side without giving Ellie a chance to respond. “How are you and these dear boys of yours really faring, Jackson?”
“We’re doing well, Christina. Thank you,” he replied, without offering the news that he had just remarried.
“I had a letter from Dorothea the other day,” she said and shook her head. “The poor dear is suffering so from the heat in Philadelphia. I wrote to advise her to return home for a visit, since we’re enjoying such a cool spell, but I doubt my sister will come. Her husband is very busy with his legal practice, and she’s far too devoted to him to leave the city without him.”
Ellie would have dismissed the familiarity between this woman and her new husband as nothing more than a conversation between old friends, until she saw his gaze harden and his back stiffen. “I wish her well, of course,” he offered tersely and shifted Ethan from one arm to the other.
Olivia, quite tactfully, ended the awkward silence that enveloped the room by addressing her customer. “If you stop back on Monday, I’ll have your cape finished by then,” she promised.
“I will, and I’ll send Dorothea your best when I write back to her,” the woman replied before taking her leave.
“I didn’t expect you back until much later,” Olivia noted, ignoring Jackson and the boys.
Ellie cleared the lump in her throat. “Actually, I didn’t come back to stay. I just stopped by to talk to Cousin Mark.”
Olivia furrowed her brow and crossed her arms. “Now? It’s well past noon, and he has several important customers with him. Whatever it is, you’ll have to tell me, then I suggest you be on your way. By the time you get back to the island, there’ll be little time to get much work done before you have to head back here again.”
Jackson took a step closer to Ellie and placed his hand at her back in unspoken, but welcome, support.
The tingles that skipped up and down her spine were quite unsettling, and Ellie stepped ever so slightly away from him. “I . . . I won’t be coming back, Olivia. Mr. Smith offered me the opportunity—”
“Well, it isn’t proper for you to stay there as his housekeeper,” her cousin’s wife insisted as her cheeks began to pink. “I would hope Mr. Smith would recognize that it would be entirely improper, especially since the scandal—”
“It’s entirely proper for me to stay on the island with Mr. Smith and his sons now, because Reverend Shore just married us,” Ellie blurted.
Olivia paled and looked from Ellie to Jackson and back to Ellie again. “Married? The two of you? Married?”
“Less than half an hour ago,” Ellie said and held out her left hand so the woman could see her ring. “I know it’s sudden, and it may take some getting used to, but it’s what we both wanted,” she continued, dropping her hand back to her side before the fact that the ring was made of wood registered with her cousin’s wife. “I was hoping you’d be happy for me, and I want Cousin Mark to be happy, too.”
Olivia batted her lashes and shook her head. “Married? You’re really married? To . . . to him?”
When Ellie nodded, Olivia stared up at Jackson. “You actually had the gall to marry my husband’s cousin?” she squeaked, as if choosing Ellie for his wife was not only absurd, but unthinkable.
“I have the marriage certificate right here, if you’d care to see it,” he offered.
“That won’t be necessary, will it, Olivia?” Ellie said. “While I get my things, please tell Cousin Mark that Jackson and I would like to speak to him.” She turned to her husband. “I won’t be long,” she promised and smiled at the boys before she disappeared behind the curtain to get to her room at the back of the shop.
To Ellie’s frustration, Olivia followed right on her heels. “How could you do such a thing?” Olivia hissed when they reached the small room and Ellie started to pack her few possessions into her travel bag.
“How could I what?”
“How could you marry that man? You scarcely know him, and I daresay you have no idea of the scandal surrounding the last woman he married—scandal you now have added to Mark’s good name, since he has the bad fortune to be related to you, and to my name, as well! How am I supposed to explain your marriage to my customers?” she charged. With her breast heaving, she pointed her finger at Ellie as if she were a naughty child. “I told Mark you’d bring nothing but heartache to our home, just like you did to Philip’s!”
Stung, Ellie dismissed any concern for her cousin Mark or his brother, Philip, and got down on all fours to search under the cot for one of her slippers. “You don’t have to explain anything,” she insisted, unwilling to entertain any gossip about the man she had just married. “I really don’t know why you’re so upset. I should think you and Cousin Mark would be as happy to be rid of any responsibility for me as Cousin Philip had been. Besides, if you were both that worried about having any connection to Jackson Smith, you shouldn’t have arranged for me to spend two weeks working as the man’s housekeeper,” she snapped, then snagged the slipper and tucked it into her bag as she got back to her feet.
As if on cue, Cousin Mark stormed into the room, despite the impropriety of his being there. Judging by the anger flashing in his eyes and the red flush on his fleshy cheeks, Ellie assumed Jackson must have gone into the tailor shop and told him their news. “Working as Smith’s housekeeper was meant to be punishment for what you did to Philip, something others could easily have interpreted as nothing more than your being charitable to two motherless children. But to
marry
that man? It’s unfathomable! It’s unacceptable! And I won’t allow it,” he bellowed.
Ellie drew in a long breath but refused to be baited into an argument. She glanced around the small room to make sure she had not forgotten anything and snapped her travel bag closed, which only seemed to infuriate him further.
“I was depending on you to help Olivia so she could spend more time in the shop,” he snapped.